-LRB- CNN -RRB- -- Over the past few weeks almost a third of all Americans headed back to classrooms -- from early learning centers to universities , as students and as teachers -- accompanied by the usual seasonal mix of joys and jitters . Or perhaps not .

Lately it seems we 've been inundated with bad news : The nation 's report card is crummy ; schools are broke and failing ; graduates ca n't find jobs . And with competition for resources putting increased pressure on standardized test scores , cheating scandals have become practically ho-hum . Among all these headlines resides a more quietly sobering fact : This year 's high school graduates will be the first educated entirely under the No Child Left Behind Act .

In other words , a whole generation of kids who 've grown up with an emphasis on multiple choice testing , who 've been taught that knowing the one right answer is more important than the process of inquiry , who 've learned that admitting `` I do n't know '' is a crime .

But the problem is n't simply with a narrowly conceived educational policy . Pressure to know the right answer -LRB- or , more precisely , to appear to know -RRB- is n't limited to the classroom . It 's pervasive throughout our culture -- a reality at once daunting and hopeful . Daunting because it means real reform will require more widespread change . Hopeful because it means there 's something every one of us can do about it . Maybe even starting today .

I 'm talking about breaking the habit of faking knowledge in order to save face . For most of us , the fear of not knowing -- of looking dumb -- gets ingrained when we 're small and reinforced throughout life in ways both subtle and overt .

For every time someone reassured us , `` There 's no such thing as a stupid question , '' were n't there ample experiences -- on the playground , at the dinner table , and yes , in the classroom -- that convinced us otherwise ?

Anyone who 's ever been reprimanded or ridiculed for revealing ignorance knows all too well : The taste of shame is bitter and lingering . We 'll go to great lengths to avoid it , often without deliberate thought .

How many times have I found myself nodding in feigned recognition when someone makes reference to a person or book they assume I know ? How many times have I been guilty of unwittingly inflicting similar discomfort on others ?

In some walks of life , presenting a knowing demeanor is practically a job requirement . One financial adviser recalls how , early in his career , he was so anxious to impress upon his clients that he knew was he was doing , he 'd use meetings to `` information dump '' -- only subsequently learning that they 'd been too embarrassed to speak up and confess they had no idea what he was talking about .

A surgeon tells about the time when , as a new intern , afraid to admit unfamiliarity with a procedure and ask questions , she plunged in confidently -- and made an incision four times longer than the patient had been told the scar would be . Politicians routinely face shame if they confess to not knowing .

Remember Rick Perry 's memory lapse during the 2011 Republican primary debate ? It seems we 'll forgive our elected officials just about any breach of ethics , but let them admit to anything less than invulnerable certainty and they can kiss our vote goodbye .

For the past several years , I 've made a conscious effort to be candid about the limits of my own knowledge . As a college teacher , I 've discussed this intention explicitly with students and colleagues .

Guess what ? I 'm mortified to report : Despite my public resolution to practice this most essential form of academic integrity , I still catch myself engaging in a kind of knee-jerk , face-saving , passive dissimulation on a semi-regular basis . Based on what I hear from others , I 'm not alone . Such behavior is apparently endemic .

So what are we to do ?

For starters , talk about it . Own up to instances when we faked knowledge . Initiate conversations about what makes us more or less susceptible to this behavior . You 're likely to hear some funny stories , and the experience of shared vulnerability is humanizing and makes for closer connections . Best of all , it creates an environment in which all stand to grow .

My friend Lori , during her years as a high school history teacher , constantly encouraged her students to play in the wide-open spaces of uncertainty . One way she did this was by sharing her own gaps in knowledge . She 'd model not just her comfort with not having figured everything out , but her delight in it . This , she seemed to convey , was where real intellectual pleasure lay : in the adventure of exploring the unknown . Often she 'd assign Shakespeare as a way of getting students to think about power and status . She 'd have them read one of the plays , then ask : `` Who 's more powerful in this scene ? ''

Her students , anxious to deliver the `` right '' answer , would demand clarification . `` What do you mean ? Powerful how ? ''

Lori would shrug and unfurl her fingers : Nothing up my sleeves . This is n't a trick . If her students protested , she 'd say simply , `` That 's all I know . ''

And so they 'd be forced to grapple not only with the answer to her question , but with the meaning of her question , with the definition of power in the first place , which she , the authority figure , had just handed over to them : You guys figure it out . You decide . In this way , they were learning about history and drama but also about shifts in power , and who may wield it , and how classrooms can work and how societies can work , and about the very nature of `` right '' answers as opposed to the illimitable richness of interrogating the questions .

This is what excites me when I think of heading back to school this fall : the prospect of bringing such generous , generative energy into the classroom . Perhaps filling in the ovals with number two pencils is important for helping us understand how far we are from achieving equity in schools across the nation . That is a vital project , deserving urgent attention . But we wo n't ever achieve equity -- let alone excellence -- if we do n't also work to make our schools places where we all feel safe saying `` I do n't know . ''

The opinions expressed in this commentary are solely those of Leah Hager Cohen .

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This year 's high school grads will have been entirely taught under No Child Left Behind

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Leah Cohen : There 's too much emphasis on memorizing the right answer rather than encouraging inquiry

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She says people are deathly afraid of admitting that they do n't know something

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Cohen : Our fear of ignorance keeps us from learning as much as we should